Moving In Reverse
by WE'VE STARTED A TREND
Summary: Fighting his way through the Labyrinth, Jareth tries to rescue his baby sister from the Queen of the Goblins, Sarah. But what he doesn't know is that he's lived this life before. Egyptian mythology, biblical passages and Fae legend, oh my!
1. Chapter 1

Thanks for reading this story. I'm very interested in the plot right now, and trying to get the story together. I'll try to update frequently, and I'm currently making changes to make these chapters better, as the story is a work in progress.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, as they belong to Jim Henson, etc.

* * *

"It's not fair!" he shouted, running his hands through his hair and trying to calm himself down. His stepmother and father treated him like a slave! How was he supposed to react? He had better things with his time to do than to take care of a stupid baby!

Jareth Williams collapsed onto his large, plush bed and sighed. His life was not turning out exactly as he had planned. Punching his pillow angrily, he wrapped himself up in his plush comforter and contemplated his situation.

When his father had remarried, Jareth knew that his life would be turned upside down. What he hadn't expected, however, was the witch of a stepmother that he had ended up with- Irene. It seemed like she went completely out of her way to turn his life into the opposite of the fairytale story that he wanted it to be.

All Jareth really wanted to do was experience _life_. He wanted to create a life that he could be proud of, that he would love to tell his future children and grandchildren stories about. He wanted to live like the characters in his favorite stories, to fall in love, to encounter adventures and let his life take hold. But for some reason, things never seemed to go his way.

He knew that he was meant for something more than what his life had turned into, which was the most painful thing to consider.

Sometimes, he imagined stories of a kingdom with imposing walls and tangling vines, of a bog of stench and goblin creatures and soldiers. The images were so realistic in his mind that he could almost swear that they were memories, repressed in the labyrinth of his mind. He could not remember details, but the places were so vivid that he could not believe having known any life before it.

His room was filled with fantasy books and drawings he had made, of dark sketches of creatures that whispered to him in his dreams. The walls were decorated with faeries, with bells and vines and trees, and twisting corridors. Dark holes, where people were placed to be forgotten about. Bridges, castles, forests. Though he was unsure where these visions came from, he knew that they were almost real.

And he knew that they were ready to collapse, that at any moment, at the snap of his fingers, he could control them. He had control.

Twisting a small, sparkling crystal paperweight in his slender hands, he heard the harsh cries of his younger sister, Caroline, as she decided to wake up and make his life miserable. As the door downstairs slammed shut for the night, Jareth groaned and sat up, resting his hand on the small, red leather book next to him.

* * *

Jareth could not_ believe_ how insufferable this night was becoming. Caroline had decided that she didn't feel like staying in her crib, instead climbing all over his parents' room and nearly getting a concussion after falling off the nightstand. 

"Why can't you just do what you're supposed to for once?" he muttered, picking her up and wrapping her up in her fleece blanket. Reaching down to stroke her forehead, he shrieked as she bit his hand. Hard.

"Stupid girl!" Jareth dropped her back into her crib and flinched, holding his hand against his chest. "That's it!"

Caroline started to cry again and Jareth's eyes took on an angry glint, shimmering brightly in the dark room.

"Do you want to hear a story?" he shouted, his voice escalating as he passed back and forth across the bedroom. His sister cried louder, her face growing red as she let loose with gasping cries.

Stalking towards the crib, Jareth leaned over and fixed her with a piercing gaze.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy whose stepmother always made him stay home with the baby." He sneered. "And his baby sister was a spoiled girl, and wanted everything for herself, and the young boy was worked to death. But what no one knew is that the Queen of the Goblins had fallen in love with the boy, and she had given him certain powers. So one night, when the baby had been particularly cruel to him, he called on the goblins for help."

Thunder cracked a branch on the tree outside, as it came crashing to the ground. Jareth picked her up and held her over his head, bringing to mind another scene.

"Say your right words, the goblins said, and we'll take the baby to the castle at the center of the Goblin City and you will be free! But the boy knew that the Goblin Queen would keep the baby in her castle for eternity, and turn it into a goblin. And so the boy suffered in silence. Until one day, he was hurt by the harsh words of his stepmother, sick of feeling underappreciated and overworked, and he could no longer stand it..."

Leaves twisted in the torrential rainstorm outside, slapping against the windows and against the balcony. Jareth was startled out of his trance-like state, leaning in to pick up Caroline and hold her close to his shoulder.

"There's no way. It's just a stupid story," he whispered, stroking her forehead as she fell asleep curled against his chest. Listening to her soft breathing, he was struck with a sudden, dizzying thought...

_Sitting on the branches outside, he watched her. He watched as she spoke the words, as she recited them from memory, from her faerie tales. _

_But this girl would be different from the others. She was thrilling and open-minded, vicious and enigmatic. She loved wholeheartedly and hated just as easily. She would be more than a game to him, she would be the puzzle that broke him down forever._

_Flapping his wings, he waited for his cue.  
_

Shaking his head, he blinked twice and tried to focus. What was he thinking of? His mind was playing tricks on him.

"Silly imagination," he laughed darkly, setting Caroline down in her crib and walking towards the door. Turning back, he rested his hand on his hip and stared at her. Without thinking, he whispered.

"I wish the goblins_ would_ come and take you away. Right now."

The words flew out of his mouth before he had even remembered speaking, his eyes widening in horror as the lightning clashed outside, illuminating the night in shades of gold and grey. Running towards the crib, he hid his horror at the sounds of creatures scampering around the room, trying to hide his fear and uncertainty.

He cringed as the tapping on the window grew louder, a dark raven growing into focus. Covered in blue-black feathers, the raven fixed its eyes at Jareth with a piercing, painful gaze.

As the grandfather clock in the bedroom struck nine, the windows flung open and warm summer rain fell into his face, feeling light and airy as it struck his cheeks, sparkling and running down to his neck. Beating its wings against the moisture-laden air, the raven started to change shape.

Jareth was terrified.


	2. Chapter 2

Wiping the rain off his face, Jareth lifted his gaze off the floor and saw that the raven had turned into something else. Something terrifying.

Where the bird had landed in the bedroom, a tall, slender woman stood instead. Her hair was long and black, cascading down her shoulders in soft, thick curls. Her skin was almost translucent, with energy glowing and pulsating through her veins. She seemed to radiate energy, with the wind swirling around her and giving life to the twisted, silver leaves intertwined in her hair. She wore white, sheer robes over a form-fitting dark blue dress, giving her a regal appearance. She was the most beautiful woman Jareth had ever seen- more beautiful than any woman he had ever read about or even imagined.

Her eyes were framed with thick black lashes, hiding dark blue eyes over the pale freckles dancing on her nose. Her full lips formed the words that he knew she would say, that had been said before, yet her eyes danced with mirth. He couldn't help but feel that he was linked to her, inexplicably. Though he was just fifteen, he was tall for his age, taller than the woman in front of him, yet he felt so small under her tempestuous gaze. He breathed slowly in awe, exhaling and fixing himself up to his full height.

"Give me the child," Jareth commanded, pushing fear and passion out of his mind. He needed to concentrate. He needed Caroline.

She laughed softly, a tinkling sound, like a spoon hitting fine china. Her elegance was evident, from the way her head rested gracefully on her long neck to her straight posture.

"Now Jareth, what's said is said," she reprimanded, crossing her arms.

Jareth could tell she was trying to be menacing and failing miserably. Her brows furrowed seemed more laughable on this woman than the scowl fixed unattractively on her face. He glared at her and she laughed again, this time ending in a resigned pout.

"Oh, I've always been so awful at this part. I'm not good at being mean. Just stubborn," she sighed and ran a hand through her hair uneasily.

Pausing in confusion, Jareth was dumbfounded. This was the menacing Queen of the Goblins? He'd always figured she would look more... ominous. Or at least threatening. The woman in front of him looked like she would never hurt a single living thing.

In explanation, she answered his bewildered gaze: "I've recently taken up this job, you could say." She shrugged and continued, "Besides, not many people wish away children anymore. Not many people believe in goblins these days, either. In any case, I am the Queen of the Goblins, here to offer you a choice."

"What kind of choice?"

She smiled. "You know the story as well as I do."

Jareth paused, running the thoughts through his mind. The story, the labyrinth, the red leather book...

_He spat out the words in a haughty, disdainful tone. "Go back to your room and play with your toys. Forget about the baby." The girl in front of him was shaking, terrified. His laugh was an ugly, menacing sound, echoing through the bedroom as he held her fate in his hands..._

The book had appeared one day on his nightstand, when he was a child. He had always figured that his mother had given it to him, the only one in the house who had ever encouraged his love for what his father called "fairytales." He believed that his mother believed.

"I'm sorry," he started, "I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding. I wished my sister away on accident, and I'd like to have her back now if that's alright." He looked around frantically for Caroline, his eyes darting around the dark room.

"Again, I've told you. You know very well where she is," she reached out and touched his cheek with a gloved hand. He shivered reflexively at her light touch.

"And you know what you have to do to get there," her eyes were sorrowful now, almost glimmering with tears. "I am not a harsh ruler, but this is the way the game has always been played. These are the rules- I cannot change them. Please understand."

Jareth nodded as the room behind them melted into a large plateau, revealing the labyrinth to him in full form. The passages twisted and turned into an infinite amount of tunnels and passageways.

Though he was angry that he was forced in, he was also excited to travel the labyrinth. The stories he had read in his life, his stage-training for plays, everything had prepared him for this. He looked back at the Queen, but she looked more distraught than ever.

"Please, Jareth, I beg you to reconsider. Forget about your sister. The labyrinth is a dangerous place."

"I can't," he sighed. "It feels like this place is pulling me forward, this creation. And I can't just leave Caroline. I love her."

She nodded in understanding and continued, "You have thirteen hours in which to solve the labyrinth. If you do not reach the castle at the center of the Goblin City, your sister will become one of us, forever."

He shuddered at the thought of gorgeous, button-nosed baby Caroline living forever as a goblin.

"I am not allowed to offer you assistance, but you will find those in the labyrinth who are willing to help you." She smiled to herself, as in some secret. "Be careful, Jareth."

She sparkled and glowed, turning back into her previous bird form, soaring off into the distance.

Staring out at the challenge in front of him, he was unsure at first, until he feet moved as though they knew the way. It'll be a piece of cake, he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: If you haven't done so already, I've made a few changes to the first two chapters and re-reading them is going to help the story make more sense. Thanks!

* * *

As he neared the edge of the hill, Jareth breathed in the thick wooded air. Looking out at the twisting maze before him, he bent down to tie one of his shoes.

The very earth under his feet was calling out to him. Every rational sense in his body warned to stay away, to keep out of this dangerous maze. But his heart knew differently, loving like he had never loved anything in his life. It was so passionate, so raw, so aching.

He was in physical pain, his blood aching to jump out of his veins, his body aching to jump and run and climb this labyrinth. His labyrinth.

As he shut his eyes, he saw a map in the inside of his mind-

_It had taken him thirteen years to make the labyrinth, thirteen long years of creation. He had traveled the whole world on foot, seeing tricks in England, seeing riddles in China and Egypt. He had traveled the whole of the Underground to discover his people, his desires, what would tempt them._

_He had grown walls from his bones to keep out anyone, his blood ran through the rivers and streams. The Labyrinth was a breathing extension of what he was, his child, his own, his love._

_Drawing a red X on the table in front of him, he marked the castle at the center, surrounded by his walls and vines, his forests and oceans. _

_He would leave thirteen hours to chance, to travel, to explore, to make it to the center._

_If not, well._

_He would think up a proper punishment._

Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his hair. He kept imagining things in this place. His mind was playing tricks on him.

Jareth walked towards the large set of embellished doors, sitting inside the Labyrinth's heavy walls. He held out his hand and he could swear he saw sparks flying from his fingertips.

Although he had heard of the Labyrinth before, the place itself almost felt like a barren wasteland, a sick, dying place. While the ground had once been green, the vines were now brown and the flowers had wilted. He could see the potential, the awe-inspiring place it must have been.

Leaning in, he laid one smooth palm against the door.

At first, there was no response.

And then suddenly, as if life itself had awakened, the door _yawned_. Not visibly, but Jareth could hear the groaning sound ringing in his ears.

He leapt back in surprise and the walls chuckled softly.

"You will have to excuse our poor manners, but we have been so excited to finally see you. It has been too long. Much too long," they whispered, laughing delightfully at the end of the sentence. Jareth smelled something warm and delicious, like his mother's apple pie she baked for him when he was younger, sitting on the counter as the birds outside chirped jealously.

"Who... are you?" he asked, awed.

"I am everything you are and everything you have ever been. Our destinies are intertwined," they whispered, filling his heart with a soft glow. "Although we have no link to you right now, we have been calling, in earnest."

Jareth knew this was true, as he had felt the feelings before. He thought he had been imagining, but learning that he had this link to something so beautiful was almost too good to be true. But how was it possible?

"We will help you, Jareth. We will guide you, as you have guided us."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks so much for reading, and all of the helpful reviews! I'm sorry about the delay- my real life has gotten in the way for a while. Be sure to check the earlier chapters: I've made a few updates for content, and I spend my time updating the earlier chapters before posting the newest one. I've finally finished the outline, and remember to review and give me any advice you might have!

* * *

Rubbing his feet, Jareth sat down on the packed dirt beneath him, exasperated. He had been walking for hours! 

The sky was turning a dark, purple color, swirling and sparkling with energy. Looking around, he could only see the forest: enveloping the area around him and creating a canopy. The trees were tall, smooth and graceful, filled with birds and leaves of every shade of green.

He had never been in a place so beautiful before. Or, rather, he had never even _dreamed_ of a place this beautiful.

Whoever had imagined this, Jareth thought, must have had a sense of the world around them. They must have traversed through legends and fiction, through dreams and reality. Having lived a life of ambition and contentment.

And as he grinned, losing himself in his thoughts, that's when the cat appeared before him and the path divided in two.

* * *

Sarah brushed a comb through her hair, holding a golden pocket watch in her other hand and balancing a detailed, expensive-looking gold mirror on her lap. 

Setting the comb down, she traced a finger across the mirror and glanced at the baby cooing softly, swathed in pink silk in the cradle on the other side of the throne room.

Though she could not make his trip any easier, she hoped beyond hope that he was the person she had once known, the clever, handsome man who (though slightly conceited, at times) could achieve almost anything.

And as she glanced at his tall, lanky form in the pocket mirror before her, a single tear dripped from her cheek, unnoticeable, falling softly onto the surface.

* * *

"It's raining," the cat proclaimed, and Jareth heard it so clearly that he was startled out of his thoughts. 

"Excuse me?" he asked in politeness, looking around for the source of the voice. Things talked that weren't supposed to, inanimate objects, walls and things. He was still getting used to it.

"I said, it's raining. You might want to seek some cover. Or the trees might help," smiling, the cat continued. "You should ask politely."

Jareth rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in defiance. "This is ridiculous. I am not asking _trees_ for anything."

"Suit yourself, though I think they'll be fair insulted that you're so stubborn."

The cat was right, he thought, as he was immediately pelted with more rain after every tree immediately moved at least five feet away from him.

"Please choose- I do not enjoy being wet," the cat spoke again in that low, aristocratic female voice, licking a paw in disdain and glancing upwards.

Sighing, Jareth glanced upwards at the wet trees. "Could you please help me out?" He hoped his voice was sincere, though his intentions were doubting and slightly skeptical. Immediately, a banana tree extended a large leaf towards the boy and the cat, covering them and sheltering them from the downpour. Jareth was amazed. The cat did not look so amazed, however, as it just kept licking its right paw.

"There we are. Now, which way are you going to go?"

"I've got a more pressing question- who are you and how did you get here? And how can you talk? I was under the impression that cats didn't talk." Jareth asked persistently, barely noticing that the path had divided into two, with swinging wooden divided doors equipped with two brass handles.

Grinning, the cat answered: "I am no normal cat, you know." Her green eyes flickered and glowed orange, fixing themselves on him. "I am Bast, the guardian of Lower Egypt and patron goddess of cats."

Jareth noticed the necklace around her neck for the first time: it was a golden amulet- simple but decorative and well-made. Small, rounded jade pieces and rubies were embedded into the pendant from which a large golden sun was hanging. The cat's paws were delicate and graceful; her poise was impeccable with a regal air. Her eyes shimmered emerald, and Jareth could see the defined, kohl outline around them.

She cleaned paws gingerly, continuing. "I hear you're traveling, young man."

"I'm trying to get to the center," he asked, "How do you get there?"

"Well, seeing as I'm not headed in that direction, I wouldn't know. I can, however, tell you how to find the castle at the center of the labyrinth- if you do me a favor," she laughed- a high, tinkling noise.

Frustrated, he exclaimed "Why does no one have any real _answers_ in this place!" He rubbed his forehead. "I am not amused."

"You may go left, or you may go right. However, one path leads to certain death, and the other goes straight to the center. I will tell you what you desire if you answer a question for me."

"Fine," he sighed, "What's your question?"

She grinned, her pointed teeth shining like ivory. "What is so fragile that when you say its name you break it?"

After sitting for a full five minutes, Jareth was completely stuck for the answer. His eyes were crossed in confusion.

"Maybe you are thinking too much, young man," Bast laughed again, and Jareth had enough.

"You know, how about I just _pick_ a direction! I don't need your silly riddle to help me figure this out!"

"Things are not exactly what they seem, here," she warned, but he had already jumped up, deliberating for a minute and heading towards the door to his right, standing in front of it defiantly.

"So I pull on a stupid door! What's the worst that could happen?" He curled his hand around the cold brass and pulled, the door opening with a loud creak. Jareth was surprised- he was half-expecting it to not open. He saw the castle in the distance and stepped jubilantly.

However, he did not notice the large hole in the ground, directly in front of the door.

* * *

"_It's not fair!" she cried, beating her fist against the dirt walls. _

_He watched her in a crystal in the throne room. Tears were falling down her face as she paced, muttering "Toby" under her breath, grabbing her hair in her hands and pulling._

_He wanted to help her, to give her a way out, but she had already turned down the helping hands. He could do nothing more, as much as he wanted to._

_This was her battle, and as soon as the dwarf told her she had to go all the way back to the beginning, she'd soon give up. _

"_Turn back, Sarah," he whispered, gazing into the crystal. "Turn back before it's too late."_


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I am blessed, honored, flattered and completely shocked by all of the attention that this story is receiving. I never figured that the Labyrinth community would welcome me so quickly and give me such good advice! Thank you for all the alerts, helpful reviews, support and encouragement. Here's a longer chapter, as a treat.

Also, please note: this is a work in progress and while I have completed my detailed outline, the story is always changing. I'm adding length, detail, description. Please read the previous chapters every once in a while. You'll pick up some new things!

* * *

Silence. Everything was silent. 

Jareth could feel his heartbeat in his fingers, aching to touch something that wasn't a dirt wall. His back hurt, his feet hurt, his whole body hurt. While he could sense light streaming through the hole at the top, he was trapped in a... dungeon? That was the place, he thought- with dirt walls and no doors- a place where you put people to forget about them.

He'd fallen down a few hours before, his dizzying thoughts twisting into twenty incorrect solutions for his problem. And what about Caroline! Jareth couldn't believe that he had gambled her life away so easily, with his silly stories and empty threats. A Goblin Queen in love with a fifteen year old _boy_? How unrealistic could you get?

He was completely sure that his fists were bleeding, at this point. He was filled with rage and, while he had punched the wall about a hundred times, he did not seem to be getting anywhere. Trying to control himself, he looked up at the grid on top of his cage, his dungeon, his downfall.

And then he had an idea.

"Alright, I'm not really sure if you can hear me down here... I feel rather silly asking. Trees, can I have some help?"

The words flew out of his mouth. He heard a crash above him and rolled out of the way to avoid the rain of metal pieces from the broken grate above him. Hundreds of vines seeped into the hole, creating a twisting river of green. Light streamed into the hole, filling him with hope. He could have sworn that one vine even fixed his hair lovingly.

Twisting around his limbs and torso, the vines lifted him gently out and laid him on the ground. It took Jareth a few minutes to get used to sunlight, as he was temporarily blinded. Hearing laughing, he turned around and saw Bast behind him again.

"How are you enjoying the labyrinth now, little one?"

Jareth thought for a minute, feeling a thought press against him, sneaking up to him and worming its way into his brain...

_She was more radiant than he had ever seen her. Her cheeks were flushed and he could see a bead of sweat on her forehead, glimmering, taunting him. She was more beautiful in this lifetime- more beautiful than ever._

"_How are you enjoying my labyrinth?" he teased, taunting her, daring her to express her anger again. She was so indignant! He adored this new side of her that he had never seen before. _

_She glared and he knew she couldn't keep her mouth shut, though she was trembling in anger and fear._

"_It's a piece of cake."_

_He grinned, his pointed teeth glinting in the light and his heart filling with an emotion that he did not know how to explain._

* * *

Jareth soon remembered why he did not like cats. She accompanied him on the next leg of his journey on foot, answering his questions with half-questions and giving him vague reasons for her presence ("Her majesty asked me to watch you," was her only reply). She tired easily and was always lurking in shadows. It made him very uncomfortable.

When he asked her how long she had been alive, therefore, he was surprised to receive a real answer from Bast.

"After Neith created Apep, in the creation of the world, though I have not lived here for nearly as long. I am an agent of Ra, protector of the Pharoah, so I suppose that is why her Highness sent me here, with you."

"So, wait, what's so special about me?" Jareth asked, furrowing his brows.

Bast shrugged and licked a paw absentmindedly, "I could not tell you that. Personally, I find you rather dull."

She laughed again and Jareth groaned, frustrated. As they continued walking, they encountered a small creature in the middle of the dirt path. It was a small man, looking around middle-age but only about a foot tall, with completely miniature appendages and features. He was dressed in bright, mismatching clothing. Bast halted abruptly, arching her back and hissing.

"What do you want, sprite? Your kind does not converse with mortals," she snarled, narrowing her glowing eyes at him.

"Lucifer sends his regards," the boy giggled, "and he sends a present for the boy."

The cat's eyes darkened and stopped shimmering, resting on her two back legs and sitting down. "Why is he interested?" she asked. Though she was acting nonchalant, Jareth noticed that her shoulders were still tense and her ears were flicked back.

"He is... amused," grinned the sprite, tossing a thin box out of his pocket. The box was flat and wooden, with an inlaid pattern of flowers and vines on the outside. "While we do not dawdle in mortal affairs, when certain compensation is involved..." the small man shrugged his shoulders.

"Figures," Bast sighed and squinted, staring at the box. "Here, Jareth, take it but don't open it. Not until I get a look at it."

Jareth reached over cautiously, sticking his hand out. The sprite gracefully dropped the box in his hand and cackled, snapping his fingers twice and disappearing.

Jareth was stunned. "Do sprites normally do that?" he asked, tracing the inlaid pattern with his hands.

"Sprites, brownies, call them what you want to. Nasty little creatures, in my opinion. All they do is cause trouble. They live around here in Rowan Forest but don't tend to bother humans too often. You can trap them and they'll grant you one wish, but it's incredibly tricky to make a sprite trap. Also, they'll sic their brethren on you once you're done, and then you'll be sorry. Here, let me see that box," she said calmly.

Setting it on the floor in front of her, Jareth stepped back and waited. Bast leaned in and sniffed the box, pressing down on it with a paw. Nothing happened.

"I think it's fine to open. Just making sure it's not some kind of death trap."

"Who would be sending me a death trap?!" Jareth cried, slightly shocked that anyone aware of his existence in the Underground would already have a death wish for him.

"Nonsense. You always have to be careful, around here. Didn't you ever get any common sense? Pick it up and open it."

Jareth was unaware of his trembling hands as he picked up the box, wiping sweat off his forehead with the palm of his hand. He slid the lid off and found a medium-sized dagger, laid in a cushion of red velvet. The hilt was encrusted with blood-red rubies in a circular pattern, thirteen rubies in all on both sides. While picking it up and inspecting it, Bast noticed a sentence engraved on the inside of the lid.

"This box contains life and death," she spoke softly, narrowing her eyes. "It's always tricks with him, figures. Nothing is ever simple. No easy answers." She hissed and curled her tail around her feet. Jareth was too transfixed with the dagger to pay attention.

"Here, come on, you! Pick it up and put it back. I don't want you carrying that around in plain view," she snarled, batting the box at him. Jareth jumped, startled, carefully placing the dagger back into the box.

"Where to?" he asked, shoving the box into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I suppose you still want that sister of yours?" she inquired. Jareth nodded quickly.

"Well then we've still got miles until we reach the Goblin City. I suggest you start walking."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm so sorry about the delay in posting this, honestly. I had to re-write some of the later chapters and change this plot, due to a couple conflicts near the end of the story. Here's an extra-long, excellent chapter for you as a reward. Remember, reviews are always loved! Thank you all for being so patient with me and for enjoying the story.

* * *

Feeling the weight of the dagger in his back pocket, Jareth walked onward through the twisting mass of trees in Rowan Forest. After another half hour, he could see a glimpse of light through the canopy of branches, penetrating the darkness. The boy and the cat walked faster, with renewed energy, and soon entered a clearing with a path leading to a small town.

"Ah, here we are!" Bast exclaimed, her eyes shimmering, "Pearth Village, at last. This means we're almost half-way to the castle."

Jareth was feeling quite frustrated, being only "almost half-way" to the castle beyond the goblin city, and stuck out his lower lip. Bast fixed her yellow-green eyes on him, obviously amused.

"We are closer than you think, you know. Though the journey is only harder from here," she spoke, soothing and exciting his nerves at the same time. "The labyrinth will protect you, young man, and it will be easier than you think."

"Is this still part of the labyrinth?" he asked, kicking a pebble on the ground.

"Technically, yes," she shrugged. "The labyrinth has grown into it, and taken over other parts of the underground. The labyrinth has run wild, these days."

He tried to ask her for more information and answers, but she just fixed her eyes on the town in the distance and would not respond.

They walked farther into the small village, and Jareth was fascinated by what he saw- it looked exactly like a medieval renaissance fair he had been to once! There were small cottages and cobbled streets, taverns, stands selling various trinkets, and laughing residents in simple, dated garb walking through the streets. Though, he wondered...

"Why is there a city of humans _here_, in the Underground?" he inquired.

Bast chucked, obviously amused, "There are actually four cities of them: there's this one, Pearth, and then over to the east there's Gehenna, to the west of that is Etna and to the south of Pearth is Trent."

"How did they all get here?"

The cat laughed louder this time, her eyes tearing up and glittering, "You don't honestly think that all of the wished away children become _goblins_, do you? It's not very common to turn someone into a goblin, as it's not the most desirable thing in the world to be one. Humans are here for a few different reasons, truthfully. This city," she pointed a paw towards the walkway, "is filled with the wished-away children. Here, I'll show you a few things."

She walked forward, her feline head held high and full of grace, leaving Jareth no choice but to follow. After making a few turns, they reached a large, cheerful-looking cottage with a tall oak door and thatched roof. Bast motioned for him to knock, using the large brass knocker next to the door. He did.

The door opened and Jareth saw a beautiful, tall, clear-skinned woman with dark features and a rosy complexion. She wore a simple shift-dress made of linen, with no shoes.

"Can I help you?" she asked warily, her words humming in the afterglow of speech. Bast walked forward on her delicate paws, twisting herself around the woman's legs and mewing softly. The woman giggled and stroked the cat's back.

"Um... I was wondering... what is this place?" he stammered, taken aback by Bast's friendly welcome to the relative stranger.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "You must be a traveler. This is the welcoming house, for the wished away children. Here, I'll show you around. I'm Marta, and I'm head assistant," she grinned and picked up Bast, placing her in his arms. "I presume this is your cat? What a lovely creature."

Bast purred in pleasure and Jareth fixed her with a cross glare. "Show-off," he mumbled, stroking her behind the ears absentmindedly.

As he walked through the corridors, Marta described how children were wished away by those who refused to care for them and those who made stupid decisions in selfishness. Jareth couldn't help but feel guilty.

At least if I lose this race, he thought, Caroline will be taken care of... but I wish I hadn't wished her away so thoughtlessly.

As if reading his thoughts, Bast licked his arm and rubbed her head on his hand. Jareth held the cat closer to him, delighting in her warmth and security.

When they reached the room where the newest arrivals were staying, Marta smiled at him and turned around. "I'll only be a few minutes, I just need to see whether the children are done with their daily prayers." She entered the room, her skirt brushing the ground behind her.

"Wait, they have prayer here? What religion do they follow?" Jareth asked, confused.

"They are Christians, probably what the Aboveground would classify as Protestant," Bast replied.

"But I'd think after seeing all of... this," he motioned to the place around him, "you wouldn't believe in something like that."

"People will believe in whatever they want to, in order to keep faith alive. With faith brings hope, and hope keeps people living for tomorrow," the cat said, licking her paws.

Crossing his arms, Jareth was lost in thought, slowly contemplating her words and their meaning, twisting them around in his head...

_He leaned over the cradle, stroking the baby's golden hair out of his face. He could not protect the child, he could not save him from his fate._

_He thought this time, maybe it would have been different. Maybe fate would have been in his favor, maybe they would understand how deeply and urgently he loved this girl, before all others. When she had come before, he saw her as a child and refused to watch her live. But now, this strong, defiant slip of a young woman was driving him mad, making him regret his past actions that had led to his lack of a future. _

_She was asleep in the other room after crying for hours, raging and tearing the room apart. Her soft voice was choked with sobs, turning her throat red and raw and emphasizing the tears flowing down her pale cheeks. He had to remove the baby from her arms and call for a child-sized coffin, setting the child down in what was to be his home, his cradle. _

"_Why can't we... what went wrong..." she sobbed into his shoulder earlier that night, before she let her mind slip into dreamless sleep._

_He vowed that he would not let her feel such pain again. He would fix his past mistakes and his past actions._

_He would not be so selfish again._

Bast leaned up and fixed Jareth with an urgent gaze, startling him out of his thoughts. "I didn't think this through, I'm sorry, but I just realized... whatever you do, don't let the children see you."

"Why not?" he asked, puzzled. "Is it because I'm a runner of the labyrinth?"

She sighed and shook her head. "It's something like that, I can't tell you why..."

"What _is_ it with this place, anyway? Why am I not allowed to know anything? Why isn't anything simple, or easy and why does it have to be a problem?!" he shouted, interrupting her. Jareth was beyond frustrated, at this point. Bast trembled with his harsh words, burying his head in the crook of his elbow as a symbol of comfort. He pushed her away.

She looked up again, her eyes demanding. "I have loved you your entire life," she spoke slowly and carefully, articulating each word. "I would not lie to you."

Confused and shocked, he started to open his mouth but was interrupted by Marta opening the door, beckoning him to come in. Bast looked regretfully at him, begging him not to enter. Stubbornly, he walked in.

His eyes were hit with the image of children having pillow fights, running in circles, playing tag and dancing to music. Jareth couldn't believe how happy all of these wished away children were- they weren't with their families, right? How could such lonely children be so happy?

About to turn to ask Marta, one of the children spotted Jareth and did the most remarkable thing: they screamed.

Soon, all of the children were screaming and crying, running in circles and hiding behind anything they could find, muttering that "he'll hurt me, he can't have it..." Understandably, Marta called in more caretakers and ushered Jareth out.

Jareth was stunned and confused by their behavior, slumping against a side wall and breathing heavily. Bast rubbed against his feet consolingly.

Marta came out the door a few minutes later, panting in exhaustion. "I'm sorry, sir... the children have been having a bad day..."

"It's fine," he stammered, resting his palms on his thighs and trying to calm his racing thoughts. "Why were they so scared?"

She fixed her eyes on him for a minute, taking in his frame. "It's just that if it weren't for your hair and apparel... I'd swear you almost looked like a younger version of the Goblin King."

"Wait, there's a Goblin King?" Jareth asked, shocked. The thought that the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on was _married_ was almost too much to take in.

"Of course," she replied slowly. "Everyone knows he's the one who takes wished away children here, to the Underground. You've heard the stories, haven't you? About the King of the Goblins, falling in love with the girl and taking away her brother who she wished away? Everyone says it's a prophecy, but I think it's just a legend."

Jareth was even more surprised than before, turning pale and growing dizzy. Bast noticed and jumped down, pulling on his pants leg and mewing. He quickly caught his balance and thanked Marta, walking out with Bast leading the way.

They decided to leave the village after grabbing two pork sandwiches and taking a break to eat, with Jareth contemplating this new discovery.

"Did I have a strange copy or a misprint or something?" he asked Bast, pressing a hand to his warm forehead.

"These things happen for a reason," she replied softly, licking a paw in contemplation and thought. "We cannot control the path that fate lies out for us to follow."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I am personally moved and touched by the response this story has received so far. We're getting more into the actual plot, now, so review and give me your imput! Thanks again for all the advice, readers.

* * *

"Jareth, are you listening to me?" the cat-goddess asked, sighing in frustration. "You've been acting distant for the past hour, staring at things. I've got something important to talk to you about."

His head slowly nodded as a reply, hands slumped in his back pockets, fingers twisting around the dagger box. Jareth couldn't stop thinking and, at this point, he hardly knew what he was thinking about.

Only a few hours ago, he had been transported from what he had considered his home, his life and everything he cared about, to this new and strange place that he never could have dreamed of. Everything was so beautiful! His hopes and dreams personified, using an exact equation.

But what would happen once he reached the castle at the center of the labyrinth, beyond the goblin city? Would he leave again, forced back into his mundane, normal life? And what about Caroline- could he manage to take care of her, or would she live a better life here?

"Listen," she spoke softly, stopping his thoughts. "I'm not sure why, but the Labyrinth itself responds to you. If you can harness that power, our journey will be easier."

Jareth thought back to the response he had received, laying his hands on the doors of the labyrinth when it opened.

"What do I have to do?" he asked, running a hand through his hair nervously. "And why me? This is too much responsibility for just some random kid."

"Fate has chosen you, boy," Bast warned, her tail twitching. "We do not know why these things occur, only that they do. Now, I want you to close your eyes and focus on the vines that you see twisting around the walls of the Labyrinth."

Closing his eyes, Jareth saw nothing but darkness. He thought to the images in his mind of the vines that had pulled him up out of the hole, the trees that had sheltered him from the storm... and he felt a warmth in his body that he had never known before, stronger than anything he had ever felt. The twisting vines in his mind's eye began to glow orange, then a yellow-gold, pulsating with energy and feeling.

"Can you sense a path, Jareth?" she asked.

And he sensed the correct direction, and the correct way to find the castle. He felt his fingers twitch in the right direction and, as clear as a map in front of him, he could see a room of puzzles and stairways, his thoughts growing fuzzy and turning into memories...

_He watched her traverse the Escher room, the final battle, and she was more vibrant than ever- her eyes shining in fear, her blouse open with her gaping, heavy breaths. She would soon surrender to him, fearing for her brother's life. His power over her could finally be exercised, and he would possess her in the way in which he had always desired, since before time existed and before prophecies were written._

_She saw the baby a few feet away from her, gathering her courage within her and shouting "Toby!" _

_But as soon as he felt assured that she would surrender to him, she jumped- causing the room to fall and both of them to tumble into the final stage, the final encounter where it would be decided._

_And the words! They pierced his soul, such power and vindication in her tone. She thought he had no power over her, and that was all._

_But really, he knew that her power over him had finally taken hold. After years of watching and waiting, he desired her and hungered to have the one thing he was not allowed in this strategic game of skill._

"_Power," what a precarious word. What had gotten him into this situation in the first place, taking control of his life again. He supposed it was fate, as the clock struck thirteen and he turned into owl form, removing her from Purgatory, that he could not have her yet. He would wait to strike, as something chewed on his leg..._

He felt a hard bite on his leg, transporting him back to reality. Jareth smiled at the cat apologetically and she shook her head in disdain. "You really need to cut that out," she spoke softly.

"I can't- I think the Labyrinth thinks I'm someone else," he insisted. "I keep having these hallucinations about some pretty girl I'm trying to catch and my name's Sariel or something weird like that."

Bast's eyes widened in fear. "You are?" she asked, trembling.

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal, right?" he replied, trying to maintain a false casual, unaffected air and failing miserably.

"It is a big deal," she replied, as the clouds themselves opened up and revealed what she did not desire to see.

* * *

"I wasn't aware, Sarah, that all runners of the Labyrinth were allowed to have an ancient Egyptian Goddess advising them and teaching them how to win," the man remarked in a condescending tone, talking down to her as if she were a child. "It just doesn't seem fair."

"It's not fair," Sarah replied, "but that's the way it is. Besides, Lucifer never gave me any real guidelines." She waved a finger at the visitor to her castle, winking at him in response. "I like it like this. And Bast isn't 'teaching him to win,' she's just helping him realize his potential."

"Sariel has never had much potential," the man grumbled, crossing his legs elegantly in perfectly-fitting tailored dress pants, "and I don't see what the big deal is. You should have left this alone. Don't you remember the last time you bargained with Lucifer?"

Sarah winced, obviously remembering her past mistake.

"And look at the pretty mess you've gotten yourself into with him this time!" he continued, chuckling. "The problem with making a deal with him is that he'll do anything he can to win. You know that."

"But you wouldn't help me, last time!" she insisted, her eyes filling with tears. "You couldn't understand how much I loved Sariel and how important this was to me."

Reaching towards her, he stroked her forehead gently and enveloped her in a warm hug. Sarah leaned in and smelled the crisp scent of pine and peppermint, mixed together, feeling the glow of his presence near her.

"My darling, Uriel, I have always missed you- in fact, I never wanted to let you go. It was more important to me that you continue your work with me. However, I had forgotten how deep your love was. And fate, well," he sighed and buried his head in her hair, "I have never had much control over that flighty temptress."

Sarah wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, trying to catch her breath. She glanced towards the window and saw clouds gathering to the east of the castle, forming a dark shadow above the ground.

"No, he wouldn't..." she whispered, her eyes growing dark with rage, "He promised that he wouldn't meddle in this."

"Promises mean nothing to him. You know that, by now," the older man sighed. "I am too old for these kinds of events. Besides, I should be leaving, now. But I am proud of you," he spoke softly, brushing her ebony hair away from her ears.

"Where are you going?" she asked, panicking at the swirling dark clouds above the Labyrinth.

"Don't you have a boy to save?" he replied, winking at her.

Faster than she could blink, he was gone.

"I hate it when he does that," Sarah muttered, grabbing her cloak and mirror off the table next to the chairs in the throne room.

* * *

He was tall, with the mask of a snarling Jackal on his face and strong, muscular arms carrying a golden staff in each hand. He wore a loincloth and what looked like a skirt, with a black cape thrown over one of his shoulders. His skin was dark and glimmering with beads of sweat and rain mixed together.

Bast twisted herself around in front of Jareth and hissed, her back arching and fur twitching in the lightning.

"Calm yourself, Bastet," he spoke in a booming, powerful voice. "I have been sent for the boy."

"Your master must not think Jareth very important, to send _you_ to collect the boy," Bast replied, snarling and extending her claws.

The Jackal shrugged in response, crossing his arms and building himself up to look more powerful. It worked. "It's busy season for collecting souls. I can't do a thing about it. In any case," he turned towards Jareth and stared him in the eye, "my Master, Lucifer, would enjoy a conference with you. I am Anubis, who has been sent to do his bidding."

"Why isn't he calling personally?" Jareth spat back, oblivious to the warning in his feline mentor's eyes. "And what if I refuse?"

Anubis laughed, intensifying his gaze.

"I don't think you know who you're dealing with."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you all _so much_ for your continuous support, reviews and alerts. My real life is complicated right now, but thankfully I have this story fully outlined and arranged. If you have any suggestions for improvement or for later in the story, or just generalized questions, don't hesitate to leave a review or send a PM my way. Hopefully, this chapter should clear up some more of the questions that were brought up last chapter.

* * *

"_For if God spared not angels when they sinned, but cast them down to hell, and committed them to pits of darkness, to be reserved unto judgment. . . " _(2 Peter 2:4) 

The ground shook with anger as Jareth stared at the jackal-god, Anubis, considering his options carefully. The boy crossed his arms, uncomfortably deciding to stare at his shoes. He noticed Bast twirling around his legs again, chewing on his shoelace.

"Could you be a bit more help here?" he asked, exasperated and annoyed by the situation.

Bast sat up straight, licking a paw in disdain and puffing out her chest, improving her graceful posture. "I am above these petty squabbles. Besides, I am waiting for her to arrive so that-"

Confused, he interrupted, "Wait, hold on, _her_?"

Sighing, the cat slumped down again. "You're clueless. Anyway, she probably can't find us in this weather. Since your abilities at harnessing the power of this labyrinth are still awful, I'll give it a try."

Jareth glared at her, insulted, and took her silent response as an opportunity to study the strong, muscular man in front of him. Could he call the jackal-man a man? His skin was dark like tanned leather left out in the sun, gleaming with sweat, and his arms were the largest Jareth had ever seen up close (personally, he felt a bit scrawny in comparison). Beneath his skin, his veins bulged and pulsed, and Jareth did not doubt that Anubis would live up to his imposing physique.

"I do not recommend that you deny this offer from my master," Anubis spoke, interrupting Jareth from his thoughts. "While he can be beneficent, the devil does not play games."

Jareth's thoughts came to a complete screeching, abrupt stop. Sighing, Bast rolled her eyes and slouched even more.

"Wait, hold on- the devil? You mean, the real one? With hell and the underworld and everything?!"

"Stop that infernal trembling, and yes. Although I do not believe he requires us to go to Hell to meet him, as he has a castle here, in Purgatory," the jackal sighed, obviously frustrated with the child in front of him. "Didn't the Queen explain _anything_ to him?" he asked, directing his statement towards the cat. Jareth tried to stop shaking, as he hadn't realized he was, but to no avail.

Bast looked up sheepishly, her green eyes glinting with the reflection of the storm. "I figured she was going to fill him in once he got to the castle at the center of the Labyrinth."

Thunder crashed again in the clouds and a large noise resembling a gunshot startled the three from their conversation. The subject of conversation appeared in front of them, a few feet away, dusting dirt off of her cloak and straightening her skirt.

"God, I hate just popping up all over the place," she sighed, trying to make herself look more presentable.

"Well, speak of the devil!" Jareth exclaimed, receiving glares from everyone involved. "Alright, bad expression, I'm sorry," he muttered.

Queen Sarah rolled her eyes and fixed her eyes on Anubis. "Tell Lucifer that, unfortunately, my guest is unable to attend a conference with him, as I am invoking his debt to me in my favor in this situation." She curtsied respectfully and the man lowered his gaze in respect, bowing in response.

Bast chuckled, flicking an ear back from her head as she laughed. "I didn't know that he was in your debt!"

Her majesty smiled in response, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I've fixed a few problems for him, on a couple occasions. He owes me, even though he does not know how to play by the rules. I suppose you're wanting an explanation, Jareth?"

Jareth nodded, confused by the exchange and his head still reeling with thoughts of a red man with horns, a goatee and a pitchfork.

* * *

"Alright, I'm sorry, I still can't grasp this. Let me get this straight. We're the reincarnations of angels, this is Purgatory, I'm damned for all eternity, Caroline is not really my sister, and you die all the time but I'm supposed to be immortal?" Jareth spat out, stammering the entire way through his words in residual shock. 

Sarah crossed her legs at the ankle and sighed, sitting in an elegantly carved oak chair at a table in the throne room. Jareth sat across from her, eyes bulging in shock and resting his head in his hands. The first few times she had tried to explain it to him, he almost passed out and required smelling salts and a few minutes after that to collect his racing thoughts. Bast was curled up at the other end of the table, yawning and opening an eye lazily every few minutes to observe the situation.

"That's not it," Sarah groaned, wincing in frustration. "Here, alright, one more time. I'll go slower. We'll try again?" she asked, and he nodded in response, rubbing his eyelids to get that glazed look out of his eyes.

"Okay, so, you had part of that right. We're angels. You and I. Or, rather, we used to be angels, now we're not. Now we're of the divine power, referred to in legend as the fae people.

"To clarify- God, The Devil, etc. are all completely real. There's a Heaven, a Hell, the Mortal Realms, referred to as Aboveground, and Purgatory, more commonly known as the Underground. However, magic, as you know it, truly exists. Just because there is a greater, common power does not mean that people cannot possess magic. All of these stories and legends that you hear- they're real. Or just bits and pieces of them, to an extent. All of this stuff comes together at some point.

"Your name was Sariel, and you were an angel of war. You saved David from Goliath, you helped Moses escape the Egyptians. However, you were greedy and power-hungry. You did not understand the limits of your power, and you were haunted by the fact that angels can be killed. Since you were constantly in combat, you saw death every day. You did not want to suffer at the hands of the devil.

"So you decided to revolt. You gathered together a band of power-hungry, obsessed followers, immortals and mortals alike. And you waged war on the heavens. To cut a long story short, you failed, and you were banished to Purgatory, forever dying and being reincarnated as your 'immortality,' which is a bit twisted. God's good at thinking up weird punishments like that." Sarah shrugged lightly and folded her hands in her lap.

Jareth blinked twice, trying to sort through the information. "Alright, so that would mean that right now, I'm a reincarnation of this Sariel person? And I've been reincarnated over and over?"

Bast laughed softly at the end of the table, flicking an ear back and grinning. "Not exactly, small one." Jareth's eyes were drawn to Sarah's pale, blushing face, with her rosy cheeks and full lips. Her cheekbones were angled and sharp, the harsh look betraying the softness of her features.

"You're right about the first part, but you have only been reincarnated once. I couldn't bear to see you suffer, and so I went to the Devil and made a deal- I took your punishment instead," she sighed, her long lashes fluttering in repose. "Maybe it was not the best of ideas, but ever since then I have lived so many mortal lives that it is impossible to keep up. I inherit the memories eventually of the one before me, and my name when I was born into this life was Sarah. And, currently, I am dying."

Stunned, Jareth let his words run through his mind again, letting the meaning really sink in. She... loved him? Or part of him, at least. Or who he used to be. This was a lot to think over. And she was dying?

Sarah smiled and continued "You died trying to save us, for... reasons that I cannot explain. And I bargained with the devil again, to bring you back. You were reincarnated as a mortal, and I chose to let you live under the same conditions I had lived in- for you to experience the same story. I see it's given you some insight. I re-wrote the legend, creating a 'Goblin Queen,' and placed that Labyrinth book in your room one evening. Fate took control, after that point."

"I haven't always been this nice?" He asked in response. What kind of man had he been?

Bast laughed at him again, a light jingling sound. "You were a bit of a terror. The magnificent 'Goblin King,' and you wore these horribly tight pants." Sarah blushed again, a deeper crimson staining her cheeks and causing her face to glow.

"It was fairly attractive, you know," the cat added, winking at Jareth.

Sarah stood up and walked around the table, her skirts swooshing behind her as she looked for something. "I can't remember where I placed them, I know they were somewhere in this room... aha!" She bent over a chair and picked up a tall stack of leather-bound books, some of them looking as old as museum relics.

Leaning over towards Jareth's seat, she dropped the books in front of him. "These are your journals, and I think I know how to give you your memories back." She leaned closer, placing her two hands on his forehead, her smooth skin touching his and causing him to shiver involuntarily.

The cat on the other end of the table sat up straighter, sharpening her gaze at the two humans. "Honestly, Sarah, maybe that's not such a good idea..."

"Nonsense!" Sarah replied, "He can handle it! It won't be a problem-"

Jareth struggled to focus as the woman's strong fingers began to pulse and throb, growing warm against his forehead. His thoughts grew fuzzy and intricate, and images were flashing against his eyelids, like he was watching a movie against the wall. He struggled to concentrate but he couldn't focus, letting his mind slip into a sea of green and gold, his hands starting to shake and

_Mazes labyrinths wars deals devils everything and nothing intertwined how you turn my world you precious thing sitting in trees as an owl watching her grow up watching her live life watching her die over and over and over and Sarah Sarah Sarah Sarah-_

Sitting up with a shock, he gripped the arms of the chair, terrified. Years of memories and experiences that he could not recall suddenly became his life and everything he had ever known. He stared at the woman in front of him, two minutes ago a stranger becoming the woman he had known his entire life. She stared back, puzzled, as he contemplated his life before he had known and everything that he had become in this moment in time.

"I... I can't do this..." he muttered, trying to calm his shaking hands and watching the room spin around him. Standing up, the Goblin King stood tall, observing his castle and his life reform to become what he had previously known.

"Jareth, what's wrong?" Sarah asked quietly, her eyes darkening in concern and love for him.

He looked back at her and froze, his new memories instilling feelings and emotions that he could not explain.

Turning around suddenly, he ran out of the room, envisioning himself anywhere but there, being anywhere but with her.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I'm sorry about the lack of updates, but I am very pleased with how this chapter has turned out. Here's part 1 of some journal entries from Jareth that can possibly give him some more depth, development and everyone a bit of fun historical fiction-based viewpoints on the situation.

* * *

"Could someone please walk through with me?

I've got nothing to hide, nowhere to be

Why do we have to come through here

'Cause nothing leads me to you"

Eisley- "I Could Be There For You"

Sarah found him in the Escher room a few hours later, sitting against the wall with his eyes glazed over, looking as though he was in a trance.

She walked slowly, being careful not to disturb his racing thoughts.

Jareth's head snapped up at the noise, his eyes focusing at the source.

"I don't understand what... any of this... means..." he mumbled, resting his hands in his lap and letting his eyes grow cloudy again. His right eye, formerly blue, had changed to a light brown. He looked older, somehow, as though the weight of the memories had transformed him.

She sat down next to him, arching her back against the wall gracefully.

"We were here, you know. In this room," she spoke, and he nodded in response, running a hand through his hair nervously. He motioned with his right hand towards the journals sitting next to him. He had read them voraciously, trying to comprehend the new meaning of his memories.

"He... well, I guess I... I said so," Jareth sighed, closing his eyes. "Caroline... how is she doing...?"

"I sent her back home with her family. She's fast asleep in her bed," Sarah replied, musing on the fate of the golden-haired little girl. "She was such a sweet little thing. I wish I could have kept her."

Jareth glared at her before his gaze mellowed again. "I guess it shouldn't matter. I mean, she's not really my sister."

"Don't say that, Jareth. She's the girl you've grown up, in this life, at least, caring about. She's the only sister you've ever known," she replied defiantly, sitting up straighter and focusing all her attention on him.

"The real me... never knew how to do that. To care about anyone. He just... didn't."

Finding herself unable to disagree with this undeniable truth, Sarah rested her head on Jareth's left shoulder and shut her eyes. Jareth angled his head towards her, studying her delicate features and feeling her heartbeat against him.

Slowly, his shut his eyes and contemplated everything that this new life had cursed him with.

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 12 July, 36 AD_

_Mortals are, officially, idiots._

_I cannot believe that these insolent beings, these Jews, decided that they were going to kill their savior, the son of God himself. For all of the dumb things I've done in my life (and, admittedly, I have done a lot of them), I can't believe I have done anything that dumb. _

_He told them, repeatedly, that he was the son of God. He performed miracle after miracle, and still, nothing. People just thought he was some kind of glorified magician. This Pontius Pilate, even he succumbed to the mob mentality._

_I guess that human behavior is, after all, irredeemable. _

_Maybe this will show how boring the next thousands of years are going to be._

_I am not so excited about eternity, at this point._

_Lucifer desired me to tempt Jesus, early on, when he was still young and discovering his own meaning. I politely declined, seeing as I have enough to do down here, taking away children and people wishing things away or making deals with the devil. Also, I wasn't particularly interested._

_But this Jesus of Nazareth, I had no idea he would be so steadfast in his beliefs. If there's one thing I can respect, it is not being tempted by power. That was my mistake, so many years ago. Lucifer offered him his dreams and Jesus turned them down, instead desiring a larger mission and meaning for his life._

_And now, in his selfless death, I suppose he has achieved that._

_I'd go up to Heaven to pay him a visit and sit and talk with him, except I am still not allowed contact with anyone up there. God needs to get over this silly grudge he's holding against me. Just because I found a way out of my punishment on my own doesn't mean he has to be such a sore loser about it._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 12 July, 64 AD_

_Mortals are still idiots._

_Nero gets bored, decides to set fire to his own city._

_Rome burns to the ground. _

_Nero blames the Christians._

_Christians are now being torched, killed, maimed, slaughtered, you name it. I'm a fan of death and torture as much as the next agent of the Devil, but admittedly, this is overkill. Lucifer agrees, as we watch from downstairs, eating chips._

"_This is a bit senseless," he admits, and I can't help but agree. It shows an inspired lack of dignity that I can only attribute to mortals._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 11 March, 177 AD_

_Emperor Marcus Aurelius has decided, once again, that mortals should push the limits of idiocy._

_Lucifer and I sit downstairs, watching the persecution in Lyon, France. Lucifer delights in this episode of inspired, inventive violence and restrictions._

"_Much better than that mess with Nero," he tells me, and I agree wholeheartedly. This is almost __fun__. Christians are fun to persecute, being so resolute in their faith. You can do almost anything to them and they won't budge. It's fantastic._

_One woman in this mess almost looks familiar. I can't help but wince as her head is lobbed off in a public forum, her raven black hair swirling around her torn flesh._

_Lucifer claps his hands in delight and I fake an expression of satisfaction._

_What's wrong with me?_

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 14 September, 303 AD_

_5,000 Christians dead or imprisoned this time, thanks to the Roman empire._

_I am starting to wonder whether Christians really know that their faith is so dangerous when they get involved._

_There is, truly, no "correct" religion to follow or labeled set of beliefs. All deities follow similar names yet possess the same essence. They appear as different things to keep themselves from getting bored. It is an inventive strategy._

_But these mortals do not grasp this.  
Frankly, I think they are just looking for an excuse to kill each other._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 08 January, 640 AD_

_The Library of Alexandria has been destroyed. _

_I am shocked and saddened by this loss. The largest collection of scrolls and information in the modern world, gone. _

_Bast and I would spend time there sometimes, reading up on whatever we could find. She is a knowledge-seeker and I can respect that, though she is also an agent of God. _

_I asked her the other evening how everyone was doing. She did not speak of Uriel, and I do not know why._

_Not that I care about Uriel one way or the other, I am just curious._

_However, Bast promised to try and set up tea with Jesus and I._

_Secretly, I am thrilled._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 28 November, 1065 AD_

_I visited the consecration of Westminster Abbey, this evening. I had been present, watching since the start of construction, and I am impressed with the shape of the building. _

_Lucifer does not understand my fascination with Christian relics._

_I tell him that I learn from their suffering and enjoy tormenting them. _

_Secretly, I just miss the only place and feeling that used to be my home._

_It is painful, having no one to talk to anymore. I have Bast, but she is always so busy and it is hard to find time to see her. _

_I will admit, it was nice having Uriel to talk to._

_I would never tell her that, though. She was always so optimistic and bright, I couldn't stand it sometimes. Every day was an adventure to her._

_Everyone always wondered why she and I got along so well, with both of us being defined opposites._

_I just wish she would contact me. I still can't get in touch with anyone up above, and I've been wondering how she's doing._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 17 August, 1311 AD_

_Lucifer has just finished reading his copy of Dante Alighieri's __Divine Comedy__. We both agree that Dante has done a spectacular job and that, when he gets to hell, he will be rewarded._

_Then again, seeing who he had as his tour guide, it makes sense that he had an accurate view of the whole thing. I am a wonderful ferryman for the dead._

_It just goes to show you what happens when you make a deal with the devil, to know what hell is really like and to have the opportunity to write about it- you lose your decision to visit what's above._

_Dante will be kicking himself for years about this one._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 11 May, 1431 AD_

_Joan of Arc is such a beautiful woman. As she sat in that prison cell, contemplating her fate, I could not help but beg Lucifer to offer her a deal, anything to save her from her demise._

"_She is stubborn, honestly," he replied, sighing. "I would love to have her here, but she has a holy mark and has been touched by God personally to receive it. I haven't seen someone this steadfast in a long time."_

_We sit and contemplate this, together._

_For someone to have something so decided and important to live for, having that kind of meaning. It must be wonderful._

_I think that I am inclined to adore stubborn women._

_Maybe they are just more of a challenge._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 08 July, 1512_

_Michelangelo has finally finished the ceiling._

_I visited him to watch the unveiling for God. All of the angels were in awe of the beauty of the ignudi figures, holding banners and naked in their splendor, in celebration of God._

_Truthfully, He himself was very pleased._

"_I look so good! You wouldn't think I was a day above forty," He spoke, with his booming, jolly laughter. I did not see Uriel there, and I was unaware of her presence in the room or on the ceiling._

_I had stayed with Michelangelo while he painted, neglecting my duties to see the strong beauty of the female form. Facing punishment from Lucifer, I returned to only check up on him every once in a while. _

_Truthfully, I was a bit disappointed that I could not be included on the ceiling. However, I stayed later to talk with Michelangelo, delighting in the descriptions of his work. I told him of how Raphael had come to look at the paintings, ran back to the Church of Sant'Agostino and completely repainted his painting of the Prophet Isaiah that he had, a day before, claimed finished. Michelangelo laughed in response, twisting his paint covered features into a smile._

"_Did you see, I included you, Sariel," he told me, pointing up slightly to the portrait of Eleazar and Mathan, smiling that sly smile I had grown to admire._

_On the right, a blonde, beautiful man sat with his legs crossed, my favorite peach silk robe draped around his shoulders. I barely noticed a woman sitting behind him, with her strong, striking features and ebony hair, a slight shadow on her expression._

_I asked who the woman was behind me._

"_She was a remarkable woman I met once," he replied fondly, his eyes tracing the outline of her features._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 22 October, 1692_

_Witch Trials have begun in Salem._

_Mortals are still idiots._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 03 March, 1824_

_False predictions of the Second Coming of Christ by Millerities_

_Maybe I should just abandon faith in watching these mortals._

_They don't seem to do anything interesting anymore._

* * *

_Journal Entry_

_Written: 28 November, 1971_

_I had not been to the mortal world in some time and decided to visit, if only to pick up a copy of __The Exorcist__ which had been published (Lucifer recommended it to me, seeing as we are "characters" in the story, delightfully enough). It is a remarkable, mostly true story. Some of the details are slightly exaggerated, but I am, overall, impressed. Literature: the one thing that mortals can manage to get right._

_As I was walking back towards the portal, I noticed a young couple getting everything out of their automobile, and a tall woman with black hair picked up a baby from the backseat. _

_She was a particularly beautiful child, with full lips and a sleepy gaze._

_While I take care of wished away children, I never pay much attention to them._

_But there was something about this child and her perception of the supernatural. She raised her head, blinked a few times and fixed her gaze right at me._

_Her mother looked down and brushed some hair out of her child's face._

"_Sarah, darling, what are you staring at?" the woman murmured softly, petting the girl's cheek. _

_She just kept staring._

_Which is even more remarkable, in retrospect, because mortals shouldn't be able to do that._

_She was probably staring at some rabbit or something flitting around behind me. It was dark, and I should not have assumed a mere child could have seen me without lowering my defenses._

_But I am curious, and I have not been this curious in a long time._

* * *

Reviews are always loved! Part 2 of Jareth's early perspective will, hopefully, be up by the end of next week. _  
_


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